


all the worst we fear

by thorbiased



Series: seer!thor [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Heimdall is a good bro, Hurt Thor, Hurt/Comfort, Loki is a Good Bro (Marvel), Multichapter, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Thor Is a Good Bro, Thor Needs a Hug, thor whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25478932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorbiased/pseuds/thorbiased
Summary: “I’m leaving,” Thor said one night, resting the cool rim of his goblet against his bottom lip. He stared, eyes blank, at the stars beyond Heimdall’s observatory, wishing both that he never had to venture into them and that he was among them at the same time.Heimdall did not react. Like all things, he’d seen this coming. He simply turned his head to Thor, his amber eyes glowing bright in the light of the realms, and asked, “Do you think you’re ready?”Thor hated lying to Heimdall. He took a swig of his mead, hoping the liquid fire would dull his senses, make this less painful. He thought back on the training they’d done, the months he’d given up to control his powers. The way he had not controlled them and worried that he never would. “I do.”// sequel to all that is due (will be due in due time) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20809727)
Relationships: Heimdall & Thor (Marvel), Jane Foster/Thor, Loki & Thor (Marvel), Thor & Avengers Team, Thor & Clint Barton, Thor & Frigga, Thor & Natasha Romanov, Thor & Steve Rogers, Thor & Tony Stark
Series: seer!thor [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847305
Comments: 26
Kudos: 35





	1. part one

**Author's Note:**

> part one is here! it's been a long process and I'm so excited to finally release this into the world! i want to thank erykah for always supporting my work. ily queen! i also want to thank the beta readers for part one: @wlwdax, @poppajeon! i hope it's worth the wait!

“I’m leaving,” Thor said one night, resting the cool rim of his goblet against his bottom lip. He stared, eyes blank, at the stars beyond Heimdall’s observatory, wishing both that he never had to venture into them and that he was among them at the same time. 

Heimdall did not react. Like all things, he’d seen this coming. He simply turned his head to Thor, his amber eyes glowing bright in the light of the realms, and asked, “Do you think you’re ready?”

Thor hated lying to Heimdall. He took a swig of his mead, hoping the liquid fire would dull his senses, make this less painful. He thought back on the training they’d done, the months he’d given up to control his powers. The way he had not controlled them and worried that he never would. “I do.” 

Heimdall clapped him once on the back. “Then go you shall,” he said, smiling without it meeting his eyes. “Just promise me something, Thor.”

The taste of mead was bitter in Thor’s mouth. At least, Thor blamed it on the mead. “Of course, Heimdall. Anything.”

“Just stay safe.”

Thor felt himself smile. “I promise.”

* * *

Iron-colored rust coated Thor’s boots. Hot wind rustled his cloak, chapped his already reddened cheeks. Before him lay a vast, orange-tinted desert moon, and he stood above it all. Years ago the sight would’ve filled him with arrogance and pride. Having command over such a space would’ve sent a thrill through him. Now, though, it only brought him anxiety. 

As he brought a canteen to his lips with a trembling hand, he stared down at the settlement below the plateau. It wasn’t much; a loose collection of tents and merchants’ booths huddled together on a dry, cracked lakebed. A circle of squat buildings with low ceilings and wide floors encased a crowded marketplace.  _ Obgi _ , the lone merchant village on the entire moon, was a lawless place. Royals, whether they’d renounced their thrones or not, were certainly not welcome. So, Thor came in disguise. A ragged cloak rested on his shoulders, and underneath it, he wore the loose fitting slacks and boots that barely reached his calves. 

Obgi, violent as it was, was mild compared to the lands Thor had been traveling for the past few months. In his search for the infinity stones, Thor had traversed the most dangerous lands, nearly been killed in every dark corner of the nine realms and beyond. All for six little stones that were too powerful for this universe to contain. 

Thor could relate to the objects of his pursuits in that way. He, too, was a vessel for a power too great to be confined. His hands still shook with it. Flashes of terrible futures blurred his vision. His nights were plagued by nightmares; whether they were his imagination or his abilities he did not know. Heimdall and he had been training, but it barely made a dent in the amount of power coursing through Thor’s veins. Their methods were a cracked dam, and Thor shuddered to think what would happen if the water breached. 

_ “See where your power leads?”  _ Heimdall’s strange clone hissed in Thor’s ear, reminding him of what the witch’s visions warned of. The Avengers had come to the conclusion that her visions were only reflections of their worst fears, not true scenes of their futures. But Thor had seen flashes of destruction, of flames and molten rock turning his beloved Asgard to dust. The fear of apocalypse haunted him, hung on his soul like chains. 

Thor shook his head. The market was growing closer on the horizon. He couldn’t seem troubled, or else the merchants—or worse, the thieves—would take notice. In his searching, he’d come only to find the location of the power stone. Of course, the mind stone was on Earth. The reality and space stones on Knowhere. Time and soul were all that were left. They had to be found, and put somewhere safe. Thor didn’t know if he’d be able to rest if they weren’t. 

The marketplace was bustling like a hive of angry wasps. Thor steeled himself, then entered the crowd. Conversations overlapped around him, and he listened for any whispers of infinity stones, mad titans, or gems of unimaginable power. As his shoulders brushed the shoulders of other interested buyers, he let his hand rest on the satchel at his side. In the bag, he carried the knowledge he’d gathered about the infinity stones and the Titan that was looking for them, Mjolnir, disguised as a spyglass, and the journals and ancient writings he and Heimdall had worked with to help him control his seer abilities. 

“Zarg nuts here!” a deep, grizzled voice shouted right at Thor’s ears. 

He jumped, eyes blown wide. In listening for whispers of the stones, he’d forgotten to pay attention to his immediate surroundings. He shook his head, both to clear it and to refuse the zarg nuts. Dragging a hand over his face, he groaned. The crowds grew thicker still as he pushed his way through. It was difficult to hear his own thoughts, let alone whispers of powerful stones. 

“Many…searched far...for these stones...” 

Thor stopped in his tracks, so quickly he might’ve kicked up dust on the ground. People forced their way past him, banging into his shoulders or his knees, depending on their height. Head tilted, he turned his head in the direction the sound had come from. 

“I have here a map. It will show you their locations…” 

Thor wheeled around on his toes. The crowd approached still, not slowing up in the slightest. Getting through a swimming pool filled with cold molasses might’ve been easier than reaching the small, slightly run-down booth a few feet away from the crowd. He stopped just in front of the counter, breathing heavy. It took a few spare seconds to compose himself; he stayed dizzy longer, the warm yellows and oranges of the desert took longer to refocus. The merchant was dealing with another customer, which gave Thor a bit of time to size up the situation. The booth was indeed small, but there were piles of maps behind it, enough to keep an adventurer happy for a lifetime. A smile swept across Thor’s face, but he wiped it away quickly. He had to be careful not to look so eager. The price would skyrocket if Thor appeared half as desperate as he was. 

Thor approached with slow, sure steps, hands clasped behind his back. “What are you selling here?” 

The merchant turned their eyes to Thor, gave him a once-over, and smirked. “All manner of things,” they said, voice like gravel. They swept a webbed hand back, brandishing their wide collection of maps. “What are you looking for?”

Thor glanced at the other customer, who took the hint and stepped away. “ _ Infinity stones _ .” 

Chuckling, the merchant stepped back. They whistled a foreign tune as they searched through the piles of both aged and new rolls of parchment, cloth, and paper. Finally, they pulled a pristine roll of thick paper from the stack. Turning back, they unfurled it on the counter. The map was beautiful. The infinity stones almost glowed. They were painted nicely, the colors not as faded by time as the other maps Thor had come across. Sadly, Thor was not evaluating the map for beauty, he needed it for legitimacy. In his search for the infinity stones, he’d come across countless false maps. This one was promising, though. It had the locations of the mind, space, reality, and power stones correct. It claimed the time stone was on Earth—a fact Thor highly doubted. The soul stone’s location was listed simply as unknown. Thor slid it back to the merchant and shook his head. That map didn’t show him anything he didn’t already know. 

The blistering heat of the desert vanished in a split second, and a desolate chill set into the air. Thor felt the color drain from his cheeks. He almost cursed. Now was  _ not  _ the time to have an episode. His hands fumbled for the satchel at his side. 

“Sir?” the merchant asked, probably for a second or third time, “Do you want the map or not?”

“No, I’m sorry. I need to leave,” Thor said with urgency. The map had been banished from his mind. What he needed  _ now _ was to get away from the crowd of ruthless scavengers that would no doubt steal his kidneys if he fell unconscious here. 

The merchant huffed. “If you don’t want it, get out.”

Thor nodded, and stumbled away from the booth. He glanced back towards the plateau.  _ There _ . He could call the bifrost, go home. He’d lied to himself long enough. His powers were never under control. Now he fumbled through his bag as he forced his way through the congealing crowd. His vision blurred, refocused. The toe of his boot caught a stray rock, nearly sending him tumbling to the ground below. He regained his footing, just as a short creature slammed into him. Fire flashed across his vision, burning in the eyes of demons who wished his death. Thor sucked in a sharp, deep breath. The desert bled into darkness, spots danced across the garnet sky. 

Terror pierced his belly. He glanced longingly at the plateau, but it was no use. He could never make it that far. There was only one option. 

He clenched his fist at his side, and thunder cracked across the air, loud enough to turn the marketplace silent. Thousands of eyes turned sharply to face Thor, pale and shaking in the center of the walkway. The crowd split away from him. 

“Everyone back up,” he commanded with as much authority as he could muster. Thankfully, they listened. He looked up to the sky, where dark storm clouds were gathering above him. “Heimdall, I need you.”

A kaleidoscope of colors exploded from the sky, wrapping Thor in the warmth of the bifrost. Thor sighed in relief; his eyes slipped shut. As soon as the colors bled into the gold of the observatory, his knees gave out beneath him, and he sprawled out on the floor. Mjolnir slipped out of his hand, but Thor could feel her lightning against his palm, trying to heal whatever was so wrong with him. 

Heimdall dropped to his knees in front of Thor, his golden eyes swimming with concern. Thor couldn’t muster the strength to assuage him. 

“Something’s wrong,” he whispered, just as the flames took his vision over and the demons closed in. 

* * *

Once when Thor was young, he and Loki had ventured out into Asgard’s towering forests in search of Bilgsnipe or trolls or some other creature of the sort. Odin had told them not to go past the east river, but being the stubborn boys they were, they refused to listen. Bilgsnipe paid no mind to the king’s decrees, so neither would Thor and Loki. Unbeknownst to the princes, Odin has reason for forbidding them from going past the east river. The earth was uneven, full of crevices hidden by overgrowth. Worthy of extreme caution for grown men, life-threatening for small boys. 

Thankfully, Heimdall had been watching. When Thor inevitably fell into one of the shallow faults, Heimdall was there before Loki had made it halfway back to the palace to get help. Heimdall didn’t remember much—of all Thor’s childhood injuries, this one had been fairly mild. Still, he had needed patching up and bedrest. The thing Heimdall remembered most, however, was Thor’s terrified plea that no one would tell Odin what happened. Even with a fractured arm and scratches all over, his only concern was for no one to tell Odin. 

All Heimdall could think of as he sat by Thor’s bedside, watching him toss and turn in fitful sleep, was that day. It had been a few hours since he’d brought him inside. Thor hadn’t woken, and save for a bit of mumbled nonsense, he hadn’t stirred. 

Heimdall pressed the back of his hand against Thor’s forehead. Still hot and dry from fever. He took a deep breath. as his chest tightened. Internally, he weighed his options. The logical thing would be to go to Odin. With his age and experience, he would surely know what to do to help his son. But every time Heimdall stood to summon the king, he remembered Thor’s fearful begging. 

The  _ other  _ logical option—which was taking Thor to Vanaheim, where his mother had learned her craft—would be difficult without alerting Odin. 

Thor cried out, pulling Heimdall’s attention forcefully back to the situation at hand. A sheen of sweat was starting to form on his cherry red skin. He murmured something about demons. 

With a heavy sigh, Heimdall finally made his decision. 

The walk to Odin’s study was a long one; the king’s suite was separated from the main parts of the palace. Much to Heimdall’s distaste. Several times on his way over he considered turning around, marching right back to Thor’s side. But then he would remember Thor’s pained whimpers, and he found the strength to keep walking. 

Heimdall studied the deep burgundy wood of Odin’s door for a beat too long, delaying the inevitable. His knuckles rapped against it, and the weight of his actions felt heavy on his shoulders. 

The door swung open, and there Odin stood. It was strange to see him look unaffected. Thor was not okay, _nothing_ was okay. Everything should’ve been halted, everyone should’ve been affected until this was fixed and Thor was safe. 

But no, Odin greeted him amicably. “Hello, Heimdall. What brings you down from the observatory?” 

The Midgardians had a saying,  _ like ripping off a bandaid.  _ It meant to do things quickly before you could focus on the pain or effects. So Heimdall did just that, “Thor is sick.” 

Even with Allsight, Heimdall couldn’t read Odin’s expression. His brows furrowed, concern swam in his eyes, but he seemed to reject his own feelings. “What’s wrong?”

“I think,” he said, his voice beginning to waver, “I think you should come with me.” 

* * *

It took Heimdall the entire walk back to Thor’s room to find the words to explain what Odin was about to see. As they closed in on the distance between Odin’s study and Thor’s room, the words found Heimdall’s lips. 

Before opening the door, Heimdall stopped. One hand rested on the door knob behind his back, the other found his pocket. Odin raised an eyebrow, but Heimdall spoke before he could object. 

“Centuries ago you bound Thor’s seer abilities, and hid them away deep inside him,” he began, his heart hammering in his chest. 

Odin’s reaction was a quick, almost imperceptible widening of the eye. Heimdall took a sharp intake of breath.  _ Thor is sick, _ he reminded himself,  _ Odin can help _ . 

“Six months ago, those powers were unintentionally, violently awoken,” he continued, “Before today, I had reason to believe his powers were under control. Now, I believe otherwise.” 

Odin was silent as stone and his expression was just as blank. He made eye contact with the door instead of Heimdall, and just when the silence had stretched into something worrisome, he spoke. 

“Is he in there?” 

Pretending to be unfazed by the odd question, Heimdall nodded. Together they entered Thor’s room, and the already tense air grew frigid at the sight of Thor thrashing on the bed. Sparks of lighting flew from his fingertips and danced across his arms as he cried out against unknown terrors. 

Any thought of danger to personal safety was long lost as both Heimdall and Odin rushed to Thor’s side. 

“How long has he been like this?” Odin asked in a hollow voice as he placed his weathered hands over Thor’s still-sparking fingers. His remaining eye shone with tears as he looked at his son. 

Heimdall couldn’t help but find this reaction puzzling. For hours he’d paced and worried and wondered how this would go. Odin’s reaction was the opposite of what he’d expected. Not that it wasn’t a pleasant surprise. Genuine concern for his children had never been Odin’s strong suit and to see it...well, it was strange is all. 

“He arrived through the bifrost hours ago,” he confessed. Odin turned, an eyebrow raised in suspicion, but Heimdall continued. “I must admit I struggled with the decision to tell you about all this. Thor didn’t want you to know.” 

This didn’t faze him either, not as much as Heimdall had expected, at least. There was only a slight tense in his shoulders, and an even more puzzling question. 

“Is the door closed?” 

Heimdall glanced over his shoulder. “Yes, my king.” 

“I, too, have been keeping a secret from you, Heimdall.”

The old king stood from his chair and walked aimlessly towards the middle of Thor’s bedroom. Heimdall twisted at an awkward angle in order to see him properly. 

“Before I reveal this to you,” Odin said, I need you to promise me something.”

Heimdall nodded once. He had never been loyal to a fault, but he would never disobey Odin’s direct request. “Anything.”

“Don’t freak out.”

Before Heimdall could even begin to comprehend the meaning of that blunt and cryptic command, a wavering line of thin green light started to glow at the top of Odin’s head. The magic made its descent, and as it did slowly transformed Odin into…

“ _ Loki _ ,” Heimdall growled.

Loki had the good sense to keep his mouth shut for once, but the silence only enraged Heimdall further. He stood and drew his sword in one swift motion. Walking foot over foot, Heimdall tilted the blade towards Loki’s neck. 

“ _ Murderer _ ,” he said, voice low and head reared back in a fighting stance, “What did you do to Odin?” 

“Now, let’s keep a cool head, shall we?” Loki asked. He took a shaky step backwards, hands raised in a show of innocence. “Heimdall, remember your promise.” 

“My promises mean nothing to a murderous traitor,” he spat. His steps had led him so close to Loki that he could see his nostrils flare in fear when Heimdall pressed the tip of his sword against his neck. “Is he dead?”

“No,” Loki said in a voice two octaves too high, and the sword was removed from his throat. “Odin is safe on Midgard. I didn’t hurt him. I only erased his memories of his life on Asgard.” 

“Usurping the throne is no lesser crime than murdering—“

“ _ No! _ ” Thor cried, and suddenly Heimdall couldn’t care less about Loki’s transgressions. 

His sword returned to his side as he ran to Thor with Loki right behind him. Soon they stood side by side, casting two long shadows over Thor. Fat tears cascaded down Thor’s face. His chest rose and fell in shallow and forced breaths. 

“Heimdall,” Loki whispered as though the very act of speaking brought him immense pain. Their heads turned in tandem, and when Heimdall locked eyes with Loki, he saw tears shining there. “He’s dying. Can you not feel it?”

The words were not sharp or piercing. They were a dull force, a devastating blow to his entire body. A chill swept across his skin and burrowed itself under the surface, too. His hand tightened on his sword instinctively, as if he could fight off what was coming with a blade. 

Loki only sighed. He must have taken Heimdall’s silence as an indication that he should keep talking. “When I touched him earlier, I could feel it. The power within him, it’s too strong. He let it get out of control. It’s destroying him from the inside out.” 

Heimdall swallowed to keep from crying. He could break down and lament the unfairness of it all later, but none of that would help Thor. 

“We need to take him to Vanaheim,” Heimdall said. He coughed once, hoping Loki wouldn’t notice the strain in his voice. “I know a witch there, a friend of your mother’s, and a close...a close  _ friend  _ of mine. They can rid him of this cursed power.”

Loki nodded. “We’ll go, then.” 

Narrowing his eyes, Heimdall wondered if Loki only wanted to come so that he could delay any punishment for his actions. But when Thor let out a heartbreaking whimper, Heimdall realized he didn’t care. 

“Can you wake him?”

“Aye.”

“Will you...hide until I can break the news to him? It will be a lot to take in.” 

Loki nodded. “I’ll cloak myself when I’ve woken him.”

A beat passed. Loki met Heimdall’s eyes, soft and concerned. “For his sake, would you like me to stay in Odin’s form?” 

There was a genuine kindness in the question. Heimdall paused; it was a valid question. He glanced back at Thor, who was still covered in lightning and crying. His heart broke at the sight. With a sigh, he turned to Loki. 

“Stay as you are,” he said, “He deserves to know the truth.”

Loki just nodded. “He might wake violently, so stand back. I’ll cloak myself and wait until you’re ready to tell him.”

Heimdall obeyed. Loki’s hands glowed from the inside, turning them a greenish-yellow. A crease formed in his brow as he placed his palms against Thor’s cheeks. Thor instantly stilled.

Heimdall was almost loathe to wake him, if he were going to look so peaceful the moment Loki took his hands away. 

But he would not, and that threat on Thor’s life hung heavy above their heads. 

Loki faded from solid form, leaving Heimdall seemingly alone with Thor. His thoughts wandered away from the moment at hand; Thor looked so much like a child. If Heimdall didn’t know better, he could’ve been asleep in his arms after his fall all those years ago...

With a sharp gasp, Thor returned to them. 

* * *

_ Fire demons, their glowing orange fingers reaching out to tear Thor to pieces. Fear clawed at his throat as the claws closed in. In the distance, Surtur chuckled at his demise, but he wouldn’t give up yet. He called upon his lightning, as desperation surged through— _

Flames melted into golden sheets. In the haze of waking, he could not tell if this was the start of another vision or if the terrors were over. Even when Heimdall appeared in his line of sight, he couldn’t discern. Heimdall, or what he thought was Heimdall, pressed a hand against his face. His hands were cool, nothing like the intense burn of Muselpheim’s magma. His heart skipped a beat—was it over? 

“Heimdall,” he whispered, desperately trying to find his voice. He reached up, arms and hands shaking, to touch Heimdall’s hands, to find an anchor in the storm. “Is this...is this real?”

Heimdall nodded. “It’s over,” he said, “You’re safe.” 

Relief crashed over him. He let out a deep sigh and sunk into the bed underneath him. Home at last, safe with Heimdall. His vision had ended, he was free of the horrors lying within his mind, and he was  _ safe.  _

And he would’ve smiled. 

But Heimdall wouldn’t look him in the eyes. 

“What is it?” Thor asked. Thor barely recognized his own voice. He frowned; Heimdall wouldn't answer him, either. “Heimdall.”

Heimdall swallowed. “Would you like the good news or the bad news?”

Thor smiled at the common phrase. “You’ve been spending too much time watching Midgardians.”

“You’ve been spending too much time  _ with _ Midgardians,” Heimdall countered, the shadow of a laugh in his voice. 

The moment died quickly, smothered by the tension in the air. Thor swallowed. Better now then later, he supposed. 

“I’ll take the bad news first,” he said. He took a moment to push himself up on trembling arms. Stubborn as always, Thor didn’t ask for help when he struggled. Heimdall did anyway. Panting, Thor continued, “Just to get it over with.”

Heimdall nodded. “I was afraid you’d say that,” he muttered. When he took a breath, Thor knew it was bad. Heimdall was a stoic man; his words came smoothly. To see him struggle meant doom. 

“Your life force is too weak to fight off your visions.”

Thor stared blankly up at Heimdall. The pieces wouldn’t click. Maybe his subconscious was protecting him from something he shouldn’t hear, maybe he wasn’t fully awake yet. He could only sit and stare and wish Heimdall would just explain it all. 

Heimdall sat on the edge of the bed. His sturdy hands clasped Thor’s shoulders. “Thor,” he said, his voice growing thicker with every letter, “you’re dying.” 

His chest went hollow, his body grew numb. All his pieces threatened to come crumbling inward, as if he was made of glass. He searched for something to say, something to ask that would make sense of what Heimdall had just said. But nothing came to mind. Nothing but those two words,  _ you’re dying.  _

Heimdall’s hand moved from Thor’s shoulders to his neck. Tears blurred his vision again at the intimate gesture. “We’re going to figure it out, though. We have a plan.”

Thor sniffed, forcing back a sob. In the struggle, he locked on a distraction. “Wait, who’s we?”

Heimdall’s face twisted, tongue in his cheek but eyes squinted, a mix of annoyance and happiness. It was a look that Thor remembered well—it was the face he reserved for Loki. 

Heimdall turned away from Thor to stare at what he  _ thought _ was the wall. “You can come out now.” 

Thor was reminded of watching the Chitari leviathans fall out of the sky; the screech of metal and groan of gears, the crash and smoke that filled the air when it landed on the ground. Thor was that leviathan, tumbling to the ground after his supports had failed and the earth beneath him crumbled away. 

Loki was  _ there.  _ Shimmering in golden light, smirking and stepping closer to him, and he was there. Alive. Not grey and ashen and cold in his arms in the barren wastelands of Svartalfheim. 

Thor wasn’t sure if he was going to cry or scream. 

Like the imp he was, Loki held his hands out by his side and shook his fingers. “Surprise,” he sang, looking not nearly cheerful enough for the inflection of his words. 

Against his better judgement, Thor stood on shaky legs. Heimdall’s objections fell on deaf ears as Thor marched towards his brother. Loki had the decency to look afraid. 

Thor really couldn’t place his own emotions or desires. Anger or happiness? Punch Loki in the face or hug him? He raised his fist without emotion behind the action, then wrapped his arms around Loki’s shoulders as anger coursed through him. 

Loki hugged him back, albeit awkwardly. The embrace lasted a beat longer, then Thor pulled away with his hands still on Loki’s shoulders. To remind him that Loki was still there, or to keep him standing up right, no one knew. Not even Thor. 

“How is it possible?” he whispered, “I watched you die. You  _ died _ , Loki.”

Loki hung his head, a black curl fell against his forehead. “It’s a long story…”

Thor felt anger bubble up again. “A long story? You let me believe you were dead. I watched you die in my arms, Loki!”

Thor cursed inwardly at the crack in his voice, the tears in his eyes. He hugged Loki again; he couldn’t help it. “Don’t ever do that again. Please, I don’t think I can take it.”

With a defeated sigh, Loki hugged him back. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically genuine. “If you don’t die, then neither will I.”

Thor felt himself smile. “I can do that.”

They pulled away, and Thor turned to Heimdall. “You said you had a plan?”

“We do,” he said with a nod, “We’re going to Vanaheim.” 

The realm of magic, of course. The thought comforted him. The witches there had been studying and practicing magic for centuries; if anyone could help him, it would be them. Still, something weighed heavy on his mind. The elders of Vanaheim could likely help him, but fate had been less than kind as of late. If this were to be his last journey, then his loved ones deserved to know that. 

Loki nodded sagely. “They’ll be able to get rid of your powers, I’m sure.”

Thor flinched as if Loki had struck him. His core ached at the thought. “Get rid of my powers?”

“Well, yes,” Loki said with a flippant shake of his head. He gave Thor a strange look. “Why would you keep them? They’re killing you.”

Although Thor couldn’t fault his logic, he still couldn’t imagine giving up his powers. It was all he had left of Frigga, his last connection to her. How could he ever give that up? 

“I...I could use them,” Thor managed, and his words were not quite a lie, “to protect Asgard. Just as mother did.”

Both Loki and Heimdall were tense, but after they shared a brief, exasperated look, Heimdall nodded. 

“Very well. You will train, then.” 

The tightness in Thor’s chest lessened, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “I must go to Earth first,” he said, “Jane, the Avengers; they deserve to know. Just in case I do not return.”

Loki rolled his eyes at the thought, but didn’t object. 

* * *

It was not hard to tell the Avengers. They were warriors themselves, well accustomed to loss. They’d taken the news well, actually. As well as could be expected. Tony cracked jokes, of course, but with a soft look in his dark eyes that spoke more volumes than words. Steve was heartfelt, inspirational. The captain was all tight shoulder squeezes and quick hugs; his physicality portrayed his emotions best. Clint knew well the uncertainty of a diagnosis, and his empathy was felt in his lingering hug. Natasha was quiet, actually. She did not speak until she hugged him goodbye, and even then it was only a fierce, whispered  _ уцелеть.  _ “Survive.” 

All the whispered assurances in the world could not have given him enough strength to tell Jane. Truly, he did not worry for how she would take the news; she was strong, resilient. But, to tell  _ her  _ meant that this was all real. No matter how desperately he wished it to be a dream, it was real. 

He pondered this all while standing in front of her door. Well, “ponder” was one word for it. Really, he was stalling. 

Her door was green. Faded. Chipping paint along the edges.  _ Just go in, Thor.  _ The doorknob was brass, but use had worn it down to a dull grey. Her apartment number was crooked slightly, hanging slanted on its nail. 

Stalling, stalling. 

With a deep sigh, Thor raised his hand and knocked. His stomach was in knots. A cold sweat had started dripping down his forehead. The fear of throwing up was now beginning to replace the fear of Jane opening the door. 

There she was. 

“Thor?” she gasped, her mouth falling open. She rushed into his arms. “What are you doing here?”

Thor gave himself a moment to breathe, to pretend he was here to visit and nothing more. To remember the way she felt in his arms in case this was the last time she’d be there. 

But her question remained unanswered. 

“I have something to tell you.” 

They moved out of the hallway, then, and onto the balcony. It was spring on Earth. A bright blue sky streaked with thin, icy clouds hung over them. Thor and Jane stood side by side, leaning against the brick railing of her patio, neither speaking. Birdsong filled the silence between them. 

“You have to start coming to visit when there’s no catastrophes to deal with,” Jane joked, just to break the silence. 

Thor shook his head with a rueful smile. “You’re right.”

Jane hummed a laugh, but the humor was missing. She tilted her head, then, and her voice was serious when she spoke. “Thor, what’s this all about?”

“I’m afraid to say it.”

Jane reached out and took his hand in hers, so patient, so kind. “Then I guess I’ll just wait until you’re not.”

Thor took a shaky breath, and leaned his head against her shoulder. She rested her cheek against his hair. Even in so peaceful a moment, he could feel the visions whispering in the back of his mind. He saw Jane with tears in her eyes, her face obscured by a silver helmet, but just before he lost himself in the vision, she squeezed his hand and pulled him back. 

Deep breath. He opened his mouth only to close it before even a syllable escaped. Deep breath again. Just get it out. “Jane, I’m dying.”

Her head shot up. She stumbled backwards, still holding his hand. Internally, Thor kicked himself. He should’ve been less blunt. 

“You’re  _ what _ ?” 

“It’s a lot to explain. We should sit.” 

Jane scoffed. “Yeah, we should,” she said, moving towards the lawn chairs she had set out on the patio. Thor followed her, head down. “You can’t just drop a bombshell like that, Thor. Honestly. Don’t they teach, like, how to break bad news in Asgard?”

Thor’s eyebrows pinched. “Do they teach that on Earth?” 

As Jane plopped into her seat, she groaned. “What do you mean  _ ‘ _ you’re dying’?” she asked, completely ignoring his little quip. Thor sank into the chair across from her. “Are you sick?”

“You could say that,” he said. His hands found each other, and one began to massage the other. “If you want the entirety of it, I’ll have to start from the beginning.”

“I  _ always _ want the entirety.” 

“Of course,” Thor laughed. He leaned back in his chair. “Have I told you that my mother was a seer?”

Jane nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Well, it seems as though her powers are genetic. When I was very young, she sensed that I had those powers, as well. But, my father-“ Thor’s voice cracked in anger and grief. The next words were hard to get through. “My father was not happy about it, so he...he bound my abilities. And for, well, the rest of my life I was blissfully unaware of them. But, they grew more powerful everyday. And more wild, unkept.

“Do you remember Strucker’s lab? The girl we found there? Her magic showed me my worst fears, but in her vision...something broke loose in me. Her power unbound the spell Odin cast on me. For weeks, I was plagued with visions of the future. Heimdall helped me control them for a while, but...I was foolish. I lied to him. I told him I was better, that I could control it.”

“But you couldn’t,” Jane finished in a whisper when tears began to slip down Thor’s cheeks in place of the words he couldn’t get out. 

Thor shook his head. “No, and now I can’t stop them from coming. And I can’t break free of them. And we worry...we worry that with every new vision, it will be too much for me.”

With everything out in the air, Thor’s shoulders fell. A single drop of rain landed on the ground in between them. Then another. And another. Until steady sheets of rain were pouring on London. Jane nor Thor moved an inch except to embrace as they grew more soaked by the minute. 

Jane sighed. “I don’t know what to say.” 

“You don’t have to say anything. I just...you needed to know. In case I didn’t make it,” he said. His fingers found her hair, twisted it idly into ringlets. “Heimdall would’ve been better at breaking the news, though. He can be gentle when he needs to be.”

“I’m glad you told me.” She pulled away from him. Even though the rain obscured her vision, she stared into his eyes. “You aren’t going to die, though. I won’t let you.”

“We do have a plan to stop me from dying,” Thor said. The rain tapered off, then. The sun returned as did hope. “My mother’s—and my—powers come from Vanaheim. We’re going there. Hopefully they will be able to help.”

“Okay. Okay, good. Listen, as soon as you get better, you have to come tell me,” she said sternly, pressing her pointed finger into Thor’s chest. She held out her pinky. “You will get better, right? Promise me you’ll get better.”

Thor looped his little finger in hers, and whispered the words. “I promise.” 

The sight of her smile was worth the lie. 


	2. part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here she is! the last installment of this specific seer!thor verse! i want to thank @poppajeon again for being the best beta reader ever! thanks to erykah and soroka and ash for always being my biggest supporters! <3 love you guys! i hope you enjoy it as much as i have while writing it!

_ Frigga’s soft, delicate fingers brushed through Thor’s thick, knotted curls. A worried crease formed in her brow at the dry heat of her son’s skin, the pallor of his usually rosy cheeks. He’d been sick for days now, and even with the best healers in the realm, he hadn’t been getting much better.  _

_ Her magic had brought his fever down and put him to sleep. She sat with him still, with his head in her lap, to watch over him. As if she could guard him from the illness that left him like this.  _

_ The steady motion of her hand through his hair and Thor’s even breathing had nearly lulled her to sleep, as well, when Thor woke with a whimper. He turned his head to face her and managed a smile.  _

_ “Mama?”  _

_ “Yes, my love?”  _

_ “Tell me a story.”  _

_ Frigga hummed. She started to braid his hair back over the top of his ear. His big blue eyes fluttered shut. In that moment, he reminded her so much of that day she’d discovered his powers. Her heart clenched tight in her chest. _

_ “Of course,” she whispered, and began her tale. “Once upon a time, there was a young maiden who lived in the woods. She was raised by witches to practice her seidr and grow in magic. But this girl had a special gift. She could see the future. She used this gift to protect her family. The girl grew up, and she had a...a daughter. She trained her daughter to see the future just as she had…” _

_ Frigga’s voice trailed off once she realized Thor had drifted off again. It was a good thing, too. Tears had begun to form in her eyes. She leaned down, gave Thor a kiss on his forehead and brushed away her own tear from his cheek.  _

* * *

Vanaheim’s nights were cool and black. The air hummed with the chirps of nocturnal animals and ancient magic. The moonlight was not dimmed by an overcast sky, and stars shone bright over the camp of the three Asgardian travelers. A day’s trek into the deep forest had left them weary and in need of rest. 

Campfire light cast an orange glow on Thor’s skin as he stared at the flames. He held a twig loosely in his hands, turning it over again and again. His eyes, though alight from the nearby fire, were dull and vacant. Even against the harsh light of the flames, he fought to keep his eyes open. But with exhaustion came a harder struggle to keep the visions at bay. 

_ A glimpse of hair, coiled and laced with wildflowers.  _ Thor squeezed his eyes shut.  _ Burlap canvas, sunlight peeking through.  _ The twig in his hand snapped, but Thor couldn’t hear the crack.  _ A single tear rolled down Heimdall’s cheek.  _ Thor gasped and the splintered remains of the twig dug into the skin of his palm.  _ A freshly dug—no, an old gravestone.  _ Loki knelt in front of him, and Heimdall rushed to his side. Thor felt their steady hands on him like one felt a breeze, only just barely enough to know it was there _. Was that himself? No, it was Heimdall, crouched in front of that grave. More tears. Whose grave... _ oh. 

The cold grip of dread wrapped itself around his entire being, even as Loki’s magic did its work to stop the vision. His whole body trembled against Heimdall’s chest. When did he fall…? He tried to rise, but Heimdall’s arms held him down. A smudged ring of gold rimmed the edges of Thor’s vision, the product of Loki’s magic. Thor let himself be soothed by it and tried to push away the image of his own grave far from his mind. 

(Still, it lingered. A taunting laugh, a spit in the face of all he hoped for. There would be an end to this, and his peace would be eternal.) 

Once Loki was through, he was panting with exertion, just like Thor. Their fears were being realized—they could not keep this up forever. Thor heard Heimdall’s voice, or rather he felt it rumble against his head, but couldn’t discern a word of what he said. Somewhere in the haze, he saw Loki shake his head.  _ I’m fine _ , he mouthed. 

Guilt pierced his chest. Loki was hurt, and it was his fault. And what was worse, Thor couldn’t even bring himself to apologize. He was  _ exhausted _ , well past the point of tears. He could barely think, barely feel. The steady motion of Heimdall’s hand rubbing a smooth circle on his back was the only thing keeping him grounded. 

Thor wasn’t sure how long he lied there like that, finally giving in to his body’s need for rest, but when he came out on the other side, the first thing he heard was Heimdall. 

“It’s going to be alright,” he murmured, “It’s going to be alright.”

Thor lifted his head as if Heimdall’s chest had been made of tar. His vision was still slightly blurred, and no matter how many times he blinked, nothing returned to normal. With an inward curse, he worried if that would persist past morning. 

“Can you be sure?” he asked, knowing full well what he’d seen, what it could mean. That cold, unfeeling stone was someone’s awaiting future. Whether it was him or some other poor sap.  _ Norns,  _ he hoped it was him. 

Loki scoffed. “Of course not.” Heimdall shot him a glare that would’ve stopped lesser men in their tracks. “ _ But _ . I was going to say  _ but _ . We’ll do our best to make sure of that.”

_ Tears, a slab of cold marble, freshly disturbed grass— _

Thor shut his eyes again. His head bent forward. He heard Loki shift his weight next to him. With a sigh, Loki tucked Thor’s braid behind his ear, and allowed his brother to collapse against him, magic both benevolent and malicious flowing through his tired body. 

* * *

When Thor next woke, the camp had been packed away, and the fire was nothing but smoldering ash. He lied on the ground, head resting on Loki’s folded cape. The sun was overhead, meaning they’d let him sleep until noon. As much as he’d needed the rest, it annoyed him. Time was of the essence now, and if they let him sleep in again, they’d never make it in time. 

His sleep had been fitful. The line between nightmare and vision had long since blurred. Since either would leave him breathless and too frightened to sleep, it was hard to tell the difference. The night before had been full of something. Unpleasant even if untrue. 

But time marched on, and it wouldn’t wait for him to compose himself. 

So he held back a groan and pushed himself to his feet. Loki and Heimdall were waiting in the trees, discussing something to themselves. He squinted at them, trying to discern their topic of conversation. Judging from Heimdall’s annoyed expression and the way Loki waved his hands about, he guessed they were discussing which path to take to the coven. 

Thor dragged a hand over his face and shook his head to and fro. Still, his eyelids drooped with exhaustion and there was an inexplicable heaviness in his limbs. What he wouldn’t give for a mug of coffee. With a sigh, he resigned himself to the fact that he’d just have to be tired. 

“Oh, look who’s awake,” Loki said, speaking loud enough to be heard over the distance between them. “I was wondering when you’d be joining us on the quest to save  _ your  _ life.”

Thor glared, but the upward slant of his lips conveyed more than his eyes. “You’d best watch your tongue, brother. Only one of us here is a confessed usurper to the throne.”

At Loki’s panicked expression, Thor chuckled and pushed himself with great effort to his feet. His knees nearly sent him tumbling back to the ground, but he righted himself before either of his companions saw. Holding his breath, he watched them, only to release it when he saw them resuming their argument. 

Heimdall had taken Thor’s bag as he slept, but silently handed it over as Thor approached. As he slung it over his shoulder, he gave Loki a disarming smile. “Relax. Heimdall and I will attest to your helpful and not at all annoyed behavior during this rescue mission.”

“Aye,” Heimdall agreed, “I’ll not tell Odin of your many complaints or overall attitude of displeasure.”

Thor clapped Heimdall on the shoulder. “See, Loki?”

Loki huffed and rolled his eyes. “I’d have stayed in the old man’s body if I’d known you were going to treat me so poorly.”

Thor only chuckled at Loki’s expense. “You started it!” he argued playfully, giving Loki a light punch on the shoulder. Loki’s wince only made him laugh harder. 

“Alright, you two,” Heimdall chided, placing his hands on both of their shoulders. With gentle force, he turned them in the direction of the coven. “We have places to be.”

The brothers chorused an insincere “sorry” as they started walking ahead of Heimdall. Heimdall sighed, but frankly, he was used to their antics. Still, Thor and Loki did not cause trouble for the next few hours of walking. 

In the absence of conversation, Thor found it hard to keep his mind from wandering. As always, visions loomed on the edges of his consciousness like waves lapping at the shore as the tide rose. He held them back as best he could, blinking away flashes of both mundane actions and more troubling scenes. If it got too hard, the occasional  _ snap  _ of a twig under his boot or Loki accidentally brushing his arm as they walked would usually pull him back. But they stayed ever persistent. 

The sun had just started its golden descent when Heimdall announced that they were close. 

“Oh thank the Norns,” Loki complained, hunching over and clutching his knees, “I was just about to faint.”

Thor smiled at his dramatic show, but really, he was feeling the same way. Between the lack of sleep and the uncontrollable power surging in his veins, he was drained. 

Heimdall sighed. “Stand up, Loki. We’re close enough for you to get us there.”

Loki snapped to attention, his eyes bright. “Oh, finally,” he breathed, “Stand closer.”

As Thor and Heimdall stepped closer, focus settled over Loki’s expression. Magic sang in the air, and it buzzed under Thor’s skin. He watched Loki’s hands begin to glow with wide eyes. He’d always been fascinated by his sorcery, but now that he possessed a bit of his own, it was even more interesting. The slightest twinge of jealousy flared in his belly. Frigga had been there to teach Loki all of her skills. Now that Thor had a piece of her all his own, she was gone. 

A rush of wind rustled the leaves and the curls that rested against Thor’s neck. He blinked, and his surroundings changed. They now stood on the edge of a clearing, just past the tree line. Aligned in a loose circle was the coven. Made up of a cluster of circular painted canvas tents, the coven looked rather unassuming. 

Thor stared at it for a beat. His mother grew up amongst those tents. He felt her absence so deeply, then, that he could feel his heartbeat echo inside him. Somehow standing there he was closer to her than he’d been in months and yet she had never been further away. 

Heimdall reached out and brushed his fingers against Thor’s shoulder. “Come on,” he said softly.

Thor nodded, and they began the short walk into the thick of the coven. Loki grew quiet again as they headed in. Thor wondered if he was thinking the same things he was. Probably. 

The sunset had bathed everything in molten gold. If Thor weren’t growing more anxious with every step, he’d probably note the beauty. As it were, he just kept stepping. As they got closer, the sounds of the coven reached their ears. The melodic giggling of young girls, the gentle plucking of a lute’s strings, the occasional pop and roar of a campfire. A lazy grey smoke settled over the air. A smile tugged at Thor’s lips. It felt warm; both physically and spiritually. His heart ached, but when he caught sight of those little girls dancing in the light of the fire, a piece of it mended. 

In the merriment, the arrival of three strange men went unnoticed. It was one of the girls who finally spotted them. Her dancing stopped so suddenly you’d have thought she’d been frozen stiff. She panted from exertion, but still gasped at the sight. Reactions rippled through the small crowd of witches. Some shocked, some frightened, others only confused. 

Thor stepped forward with his hands raised, but a calm, clear voice rang out from the crowd. 

“ _ Ladies _ ,” it said, “please calm down. Do you not recognize our own kin?”

The owner of the voice was a woman who stood at least four inches above the rest of witches. Her hair, chestnut and entwined with jewel-toned wildflowers, bloomed from her head like a lion’s mane. She approached Thor, Loki, and Heimdall with authority. The witches fell silent, and the birds did, too. She commanded the very air around her to her will. 

Though she was beautiful, Thor nearly vomited at the sight of her. Because this was not the first time he’d seen that floral hair, and if that part of his vision was coming to life, then it only stood to reason that the grave was not far behind. 

When she finally reached them, she stood with hands clasped in front of her. She and Thor were at eye level, a true testament to her height. But, her gaze did not linger on Thor. Instead, she looked to Heimdall. And  _ grinned.  _

“My brother,” she said, unable to hide the pure joy in her voice. She locked her arms around Heimdall’s shoulders, and he embraced her back with just as much fervor. “I’ve missed you.”

“Runa,” Heimdall breathed, his eyes fluttering shut, “I’ve missed you, as well.” 

While the brother and sister embraced, Thor looked to his own sibling with bewilderment in his eyes. Loki’s expression matched Thor’s. 

Runa pulled away from Heimdall’s arms, but her hands still rested on the crooks of his bent elbows, and his own held the back of her arms. “Who have you brought me, then? I sense unease in all of you. As well as quite a bit of surprise.” She said this last sentence with a pointed stare at Thor and Loki and an amused smirk on her lips. 

“Runa,” Heimdall said, turning then to look at the princes, “These are the sons of Frigga.”

Runa’s eyes, the same golden hue as her brother’s, widened. “Oh,” she said simply. She paused, eyebrows creased. When she spoke next, her words were a faint whisper. “He’s in danger, is he not?”

Heimdall bowed his head. “Aye.”

“Then we must act with haste,” Runa said, pulling away from Heimdall. She turned to Thor and tilted her head towards something in the distance. “Follow me.” 

* * *

Runa’s tent was made of canvas walls stretched over a wooden frame held up by ropes that encircled the main structure. Inside the tent was small and clearly not meant for gatherings. In one corner was a bed, topped with furs and quilts all in shades of pearl white and soft lavender. In the middle was a table, hand constructed and well-worn, with dried flowers, fresh herbs, and animal skulls scattered across its top. The rest of the space was filled with shelves stuffed to the brim with magical objects and ancient books placed haphazardly around the perimeter. 

The group had gathered at the table. Runa sat on the edge of her seat quite literally, with her hands clasped together and resting on her gaping lips. She listened to Thor, enraptured, as he explained his predicament, her gaze never straying from his face. 

“And now we’re here,” Thor finished, just slightly out of breath, “Hoping desperately that you can save me.” 

“Runa, you’re the most knowledgeable sorceress I know,” Heimdall said, reaching for his sister’s hand, “If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

Runa gave Heimdall’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Oh, Heimdall, you’ve always needed me to rescue you,” she teased, “How did you ever survive those years before I was born?”

Heimdall laughed. “It was nothing short of a miracle.” 

With a pleased hum, Runa stood from her seat and made her way to Thor’s side. She cupped his chin in one hand and brushed her fingers against the dark circles under his eyes. “I can tell you’re weak, just from looking at you. Poor thing. Can I get a closer view?”

Thor nodded, even though the thought of what she would see made his stomach turn. “Aye.” 

With his permission, Runa placed both palms on his cheeks with the tips of her middle and index fingers pressed against his temples. Her eyes fell shut, and her usual care-free expression was replaced by steely concentration. Silver light glowed from within her hands and absorbed into Thor’s skin. 

Thor’s heart raced, then, as the fear of confirmation gripped him like a vise. He screwed his eyes shut as if darkness could protect him from what Runa would find. His vision played on a loop, reminding him of all he stood to lose. Panic swelled in his chest, billowing like an open sail and threatening to choke him as it climbed steady into his throat. 

With a sharp, sudden gasp, Runa pulled her hands away from Thor’s face and brought them close to her chest as their light dimmed. The look in her eyes, written all over her face, was one of doom. 

“You need to rest,” she said, gnawing on her bottom lip. Before Thor could even move from his seat, she grabbed his arms and pulled him awkwardly to his feet. “Rest  _ now _ .”

Thor’s stomach turned as she led him to her own bed. His hands had been shaking before, but now his entire body trembled. He could’ve just as easily been a small child in a cold rain, then. He looked the part, and felt it too when Runa piled blankets atop him and Heimdall came to his side. Loki hung back out of the way, but his gaze was intense and never turned from his brother. 

Runa flitted from the bed to her shelves and returned with a vial in hand. She placed it in Thor’s hand and gently closed his fingers around it. A question nearly crossed his lips, but she had an answer before he could ask it. “Sleeping potion,” she said, “Your life force is frail and cannot fight off your visions and the power inside you. This will help it begin to heal.”

Thor frowned at the vial. “But that doesn’t solve my problem, does it?” 

“No,” Runa admitted, “but it is a start. I will set up the guest tent. You three stay here. I sense unspoken words within you all. As soon as you’re done, drink that potion.”

Once she had gone, Thor sighed. “We knew this would happen,” he said, “Right? We knew it would...that I was…” 

His words tapered off and were replaced by tears falling softly to his cheeks. His head tilted forward and his eyes shut. Shame made his cheeks flush, but Heimdall and Loki’s hands on his shoulders soothed him somewhat. 

“It’s going to be alright,” Loki said. Coming from his lips, the words sounded unnatural. He cringed at them. “We’ll make it so. Between my magic and hers...we’ll make it so.”

Heimdall lifted Thor’s chin with a bent finger. “He’s right. You are strong, and Runa is strong, and so is your brother. We will not let you fall.”

Thor threw himself into Heimdall’s arms without waiting for permission, and was pleased to feel Loki’s slender form at his back soon after. The three of them uncomfortably tangled together, but didn’t move until Thor’s breathing was even again. 

Runa returned to find them as such, wrapped around each other, and smiled at the sight. She hung back at the entrance of her tent, content to watch for a moment. When they were spent, she spoke, “Thor, it’s time.”

Thor wiped his eyes and nodded. “Right. Well, I’ll see you all in the morning.”

Loki patted Thor’s back and pressed his lips together in an awkward smile. “Aye. I’ll see you.”

Heimdall pulled Thor in for another hug. “Sleep well, my boy.”

Thor gave a shuddering sigh, allowing himself to need and accept the comfort. “Thank you, Heimdall.”

As Heimdall and Loki passed on their way to the tent, Runa gave them an absent smile. Her glistening eyes, always so perceptive, were trained on Thor. He wondered if she could truly see right through him, or only metaphorically. 

“There is something on your mind,” she said. 

Thor rolled the potion between his hands, slow and subconsciously. He was leaning more towards ‘truly’. “Will you have to take my powers away?” 

Runa’s lips flattened as she thought. Silence filled the gap between them, but Thor’s pounding heart was quick to overpower it. Just when he was about to ask her if she had gotten distracted, she shrugged. 

“I’ll sleep on it,” she said with the conviction of a vow, “And I’ll let you know in the morning.”

It was certainly better than a ‘no’, so Thor nodded, and Runa left. As the burlap drew shut, he was left with only candles and bones for company. 

Anxiety, which he’d come to find familiar, settled in his belly just like the dim candlelight settled in the room. He glanced down to the vial in his hand. The poor thing looked almost cheerful with its buttercup color and shimmering surface. Thor popped the cork with his thumb and tried not to think about anything but its taste as he drank. 

The potion’s effects took hold quickly. Thor barely had time to lie down before his limbs grew heavy and his eyes struggled to stay open. He lied on his side, brought his knees close to his chest, and watched that candle flicker until he fell asleep. 

* * *

Loki and Heimdall made the short walk to their tent under a blanket of stars. Creatures of the night chirped and howled around them, but they were distant and the air was calm. Inside, however, was another story. 

Through the steady, subconscious motion of his fingers, Loki found a release for the anxiety within him. Rarely did he have to worry about Thor’s safety. Admittedly, he had often been the threat to Thor’s safety. Yet, Thor had always persevered. This time was different. This situation was out of his control. He was helpless. 

Loki cast a look over his shoulder at Runa’s tent where Thor lied. His seidr gently floated through the air to prod at Thor’s, and his chest tightened when he felt how truly  _ weak  _ Thor was. With a shake of his head, he focused on Heimdall’s rhythmic footsteps rather than Thor’s uneven breathing. 

There was no use in worrying, he told himself and somewhere in his heart he knew that was true, but still his stomach rolled and his hands twitched. 

This time really was different. Thor didn’t face a foe he could see or punch, as he so loved to do. This battle would be waged inside him. Thor wasn’t so equipped to fight those types of battles.

Loki checked on Thor again, only to find him fast asleep under the effects of Runa’s potion. The pressure in his chest lessened, but only slightly. He wished Runa would’ve let them stay with him. Better nervous right beside him then in anguish away from him. 

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Runa said when they’d reached the tent. She stood by the opening flap. 

Heimdall gave her another hug, and she returned it with a smile. “Thank you for everything, Runa. I don’t know how we’ll ever make it up to you.”

Runa laughed. “Make it up to me by getting some sleep, brother.” Heimdall hummed and stepped inside the tent, leaving Runa alone with Loki. “You worry for him.” 

“Aye.” 

“I can’t tell you that everything will be okay.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Won’t,” she corrected, “I  _ can  _ say that your brother has resolve. If he’s anything like his mother, he’ll pull through.”

Loki smiled; Thor  _ was _ like Frigga. Strong, compassionate, stubborn in general, but mostly when it came to seeing the best in people. 

“In that case,” Loki mused, “He’ll be just fine.”

With a quiet laugh, Runa gave Loki’s arms a gentle squeeze. “Get some sleep, then. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Loki watched her leave, then ducked inside the tent. It was smaller than Runa’s, furnished with only two cots and an oil lamp. Heimdall sat on the left cot, rummaging through his nap sack. 

Seeing the gatekeeper reminded him of something he hadn’t been able to ask about earlier. 

“How come you’ve never told us about your sister?” Loki asked as he came to sit on the cot on the right. 

Heimdall shrugged. “You’ve never asked.”

Loki squinted his eyes. “I’m the god of lies, you know.”

“Aye, I know,” Heimdall sighed, setting his bag aside. “When you pledge yourself as gatekeeper, your only attachment is to be your watch. I wasn’t supposed to see Runa again, and it pained me to speak of her.” 

Loki hummed. “Odin’s rule, I presume?” 

“Do not make me disparage my king,” Heimdall said, glowering without any real anger. 

With a flash of his palms, Loki backed off. “I was only asking a question.” 

“Aye. It was Odin’s rule."

“Well, crazy how we’re here in Vanaheim fixing  _ two  _ of his problems. You think we could swing by Jotunheim on the way home, fix me up too?” 

Heimdall visibly held back his laughter with a bite of his lip. “You better watch your tone,” he warned gently, “I had planned on letting you slip from my gaze instead of taking you back to a cell.”

A breath caught in Loki’s throat. In all his worrying, he’d  _ actually  _ forgotten his treason. He fiddled with the edge of the blanket he sat atop. “You would let me escape?” 

Heimdall’s gaze softened. “Aye, I would.”

Loki fought back the urge to launch himself into Heimdall’s arms. Thor certainly would have. He settled for an incline of his head as his throat tightened. “Thank you,” he managed. 

“Oh, it’s no trouble,” Heimdall sighed, settling into the cot. His eyes turned to his lap briefly before he looked over at Loki and swallowed. “For all my sight, I cannot see within a person as you or Runa can. How is he, really?”

“I don’t know why Thor wishes to keep his powers,” Loki muttered, unable to keep the bitterness out of his words. His stomach clenched with frustration. “They’re killing him. He’s weak, Heimdall. I fear he will not last through the week’s end.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” 

Loki swallowed in the uncomfortable silence. There was rare fear in Heimdall’s eyes.“I...I’m sure it will all work out,” he said, despite the creeping feeling that it wouldn’t. He lied on his back, then, and stared at the roof of their tent. He’d had enough talking for the night. “Goodnight, Heimdall.” 

Heimdall had too, it seemed, because he replied, “Goodnight, Loki.” 

* * *

Runa brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes with a huff. It was dark enough already, she didn’t need her own hair getting in the way. Buried under a blanket in the communal tent, she ran her fingers down the yellowed pages of the Vanir’s ancient texts. As her eyes scanned the words, her lips mouthed them. She likely looked a mess, wild hair and screwed eyes, muttering about magic. Even her flowers she kept magically perky were wilting in her negligence. 

With a grunt, Runa shoved the latest useless text to the side. Thor’s situation was so... _ unprecedented _ . Magic was never meant to be bound for so long,  _ especially  _ not seer magic. Its volatility made it a dangerous power to be born with, an even more dangerous beast when left unchecked. 

Her candle grew dimmer still, almost as if it was telling her to wrap it up already. With a glare and the flick of her wrist, she brought the flame to life again. The stack of texts she’d already read was taller than the stack of those she hadn’t, so she took that as her own sign to keep going. 

Runa heaved a sigh so heavy it scattered her papers across her desk. She retrieved a random one and started to read, prepared to do the very same thing for the rest of the night. Then she gasped—she’d found it. 

She drank in the words like a man downing water in the desert, a crazed grin on her lips. Information on the origins of seers, how to identify them, and most importantly—how to train them. It was all there. Written in faded and ancient ink, but  _ there _ .

A laugh bubbled from her lips. “Well, Thor,” she whispered to no one in particular, “we may just save you yet.” 

She read on, her eyes glowing almost as golden as her brother’s under the light of her candle. The tips of her boots tapped a little melody against the dirt. Warmth blossomed in her chest; she felt like a kid again, like she’d solved a riddle that even Heimdall hadn’t been able to figure out. 

Her eyes were slipping shut when she picked up a quill and blank piece of parchment. Still, she pushed through. She copied the instructions for a training ritual that would help her decide whether or not Thor’s body would be able to handle extensive training. 

The ink had not had the chance to dry before she flipped over the original paper to put it away, only to see a hastily scribbled note written on the back. Brows cinched, she studied the newfound message. 

_ If one’s abilities are too powerful to contain, the abilities may be returned to the Norns from whence they came via the River of Sights _ . 

Runa’s fingers released their grip on the paper. 

“Damn,” she breathed as her gaze turned in Thor’s direction. Though separated by distance and a few layers of canvas tent, his last words to her echoed as if he were crouched next to her ear. 

_ Will you have to take my powers away?  _

With a swell of determination so tangible that it made her breath hitch, she clutched her handwritten incantation. Frigga had been her friend, her  _ sister _ , and Runa had not been able to save her. It seemed only right that she would be able to save Frigga’s son, her precious legacy. 

But Runa was not a fool, and optimism could only do so much. A gnawing in her stomach, a chill in her veins—her instincts told her that things would not be simple. Her eyes flickered back to that footnote, that afterthought. Dread creeped up her throat. 

She turned the paper over, pushed dark thoughts from the forefront of her mind, and blew out her candle with one quick breath. 

* * *

Sunlight warmed his back. Birds chirped somewhere in the distance. The smell of cinnamon floated in the air. Thor woke with a smile on his lips, and in his daze, didn’t notice the odd surroundings. His eyes scrunched as he sat up, stretching his arms above his head until they gave a satisfying  _ pop _ . 

A long slow breath escaped his lips as he settled back into a seated position with his shoulders hunched. He blinked a few times to get his senses back, then stiffened when reality hit. 

He pushed back heavy quilts and furs, and slid out of Runa’s bed. Just like the previous morning, his knees buckled, only this time, it was harder to right himself. 

Forcing himself towards the door of the tent, he held tight to the hope that Runa had found a solution as he slept. It was getting harder to ignore the possibility that this would end with him losing his powers. As much as he hated to admit it, he was starting to think that was the only way this could end. 

More sunlight poured into the tent when he pulled back the opening flap. Spots danced across his vision from the brightness, and his stomach swooped. He swallowed back a wave of nausea and pushed forward.

The witches were gathered in the middle of the coven just as they’d been the night before. The only difference was now Heimdall and Loki sat among them, looking rather out of place. Thor walked over to join them. 

Whispers rose from the circle of women. Gossip must have traveled fast because he caught snippets of their conversations. Words like  _ seer _ ,  _ tragic _ , and  _ son of Frigga _ hit his ears. With a sigh, he kept walking and ignored them as best he could. 

Loki and Heimdall shared a thick log, and each had a bowl of something steaming in their hands. Loki was speaking with a younger witch. Thor couldn’t help but notice the twinkle of matching mischief that lit both of their eyes. It almost pained him to separate the new friends, but with a quick clearing of his throat, Loki’s attention was on him. 

“Thor!” Loki exclaimed, scrambling to his feet, his bowl and conversation left abandoned in the grass. 

Heimdall was quick to the draw, as well, and moved towards Thor with determination. “Why are you out of bed? Runa said to rest.” 

Calling Mjolnir wouldn’t have helped him stop Loki and Heimdall from getting him back to bed. Even though Thor’s protests fell on deaf ears, it didn’t stop from trying it the entire way back. If he’d been trying to avoid attention before, that effort was futile now. He looked like a toddler pitching a fit in a supermarket as they dragged him right through the heart of the crowd to Runa’s tent. 

“I’m not a child,” he mumbled once they’d forcibly pulled the covers up to his chest. 

“Then stop acting like one,” Heimdall and Loki said together. 

Thor huffed and let his head fall back against the pillow. His eyes traced the seams of the tent’s ceiling with furrowed brows. He sat up too quickly for his condition and received an uncomfortable protest from his stomach. “Where’s Runa?”

“She’s gathering the supplies to complete a training ritual,” Loki said with a poorly hidden half-smile. At Thor’s excited gasp, he couldn’t help but grin. “Now don’t get too excited.” 

Thor’s heart pounded erratically. “She found a solution, then?” 

“She found two actually,” Heimdall said, unable to contain his own smile. But there was a solemness to his next words that he couldn’t hide. “If you’re strong enough to make it through the training ritual, then she’ll be able to train you to control and utilize your abilities. But if you’re not, she will have to take your powers away.”

Emptiness grew in his core. Somehow Heimdall had just delivered him his greatest hope and his worst nightmare in just a few sentences. “I’ll just have to be strong enough, then.” 

Heimdall opened his mouth, but shut it before he said anything. Loki gave him a tense look, but he, too, was silent.

Thor wished it didn’t anger him so much. They were only concerned, of course. He was hurt, weak, and yes, on the brink of death, but if one more person looked at him like he’d break if they breathed on him wrong, he would lose his mind. 

“Do you know when she’ll be back?” Thor asked. 

Like she’d been summoned, Runa entered the tent with a wicker basket under her arm. She brushed back a wild curl and squinted at the men in her tent. 

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” She passed her basket to Heimdall, who took it wordlessly, like they’d done it a million times before. “Have they told you?”

“Aye, they told me,” Thor all but spoke over her. He bounced in his spot, “When do we start?” 

Runa recoiled a bit. “You might want to slow down a bit,” she laughed, giving him a once-over, “You need to eat and rest. The training will most certainly fail if we try now.” 

Thor sucked his teeth. “Alright, then. I will eat, but I’ve rested enough. I want to get started.” 

Runa huffed and plopped her hands on her hips. “You’re so bloody stubborn. Just like your mother. But fine, if you eat some porridge and stay in bed for another few hours, we’ll start tonight.”

Thor grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” 

* * *

The last rays of daylight faded into darkness with Thor’s watchful eye tracing their path. The hard, packed ground of the main coven gave way to soft and high grass of the meadow where Runa would perform the training ritual. They walked in silence, with only birdsong to keep them company. 

Thor glanced over his shoulder. Somewhere past the thickening trees, Loki and Heimdall waited. Their presence was with him, though; they’d given him hugs and words of encouragement before he left. A part of him was glad they wouldn’t see whatever Runa was going to do to him. 

“We’re here,” Runa announced. Her voice had lost its cheerfulness, and with it, the air changed. It was colder now. The empty feeling in his stomach that hadn’t left him since he first collapsed on Obgi grew deeper. 

“What do you need me to do?” 

Runa turned around. “You need to lie down. I’m going to use these stones,” She held up a pouch that glowed ever so slightly blue, “which are imbued with the essence of Sága to conjure a false vision of the future.” 

She walked forward to the center of the meadow. “Come sit,” she said, lowering herself to the ground, careful not to topple her basket of supplies. When Thor was cross-legged in front of her, she spoke again, “Your body was ill prepared to take on the power within you. It’s why you reacted so violently to it when it was first released. Simulating a real vision will let me see your seidr at work. If you are strong enough to handle a false vision, you can be trained to handle real ones.”

Thor‘s fingers twisted wiry blades of grass into knots at his sides. “And what if I’m not strong enough?” 

Runa took a breath, like maybe she didn’t want to say what she had to. “Maybe you’ll just need more rest, but most likely, your life force is too damaged to continue using your powers. In that case, they’ll need to be returned to the Norns.”

Thor tried to swallow back the lump growing in his throat, but when he found his voice, it came out broken and forced. “I understand.” 

Runa nibbled on her bottom lip. “Thor, can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” 

“Is there a reason you want to keep your powers so badly?” 

Thor’s heart clenched in his chest. There wasn’t an ounce of judgement in her gaze, just concern. For a second, it was Frigga sitting with him. He took a deep breath. The weight on his chest was teetering; it would leave him if he just opened his mouth and let it. 

“I’ve always been more like Odin,” he said, dropping his gaze to the grass. He plucked three blades from their roots and absentmindedly weaved them together. “I had his rage, his violence, his impatience. Odin trained me. He was the one who taught me to fight, taught me diplomacy, however sparingly he actually used it.” 

Thor took a shuddering breath and looked up at the stars. He could still see Frigga’s ashes returning to their rightful place among them. His fingers never stopped braiding. 

“I just thought...I could finally have a piece of her all my own. This was her gift to me. It feels wrong to let it go,” His voice broke, but he kept pushing, even as his cheeks grew damp. “It’s all I have left of her. I...I don’t want to be like Odin. His ways are old and flawed, and I know that now. I’m afraid that if I lose my last connection to my mother…”

“You’ll be just like him,” Runa finished. 

Thor could only nod. His tears fell in earnest, now, and his throat ached from having held them back so long. That weight hasn’t left him after all, and instead crushed him from within. 

“Thor, look at me.” Runa reached out and took his hands, with the braided cord of grass still in between his fingers, in hers. “Do you see this?” 

Thor blinked through the haze of tears and stared at the grass. “I do, but I don’t see how...”

“Did Odin teach you that, hm?” She didn’t wait for an answer; she already had it. “Did Odin teach you to love and to forgive and to be kind? Look at your eyes; they are Frigga’s. Your hair, too. And your stubbornness, as I’ve had the misfortune of discovering.” 

Thor whispered, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear his greatest shame, “I let her die.” 

Runa shook her head so hard that the flowers entwined in it loosened. “No. Frigga was a seer, too. She knew her time, Thor. Nothing could have stopped it. Not even the great god of thunder.” 

At the sound of his title, he felt that familiar pull of electricity in his belly. That, too, was Odin. “You’re wrong about me. I betrayed Asgard. I sent the realms into chaos. I let Loki die twice. I have yet to find the infinity stones, I…”

Thor’s words were cut off sharply by Runa’s hand over his mouth. 

“You get that from her, too,” she said, tears shining in her golden eyes, “It took her a very long time to realize it took failure to succeed. She was a wise woman, and you will be a wise man one day. But, you have to listen to me, Thor. We all have faults, but I swear to you, for every fault you got from Odin, Frigga gave you twice as many virtues. You are more your mother’s child than you realize.”

Thor waited until she’d taken her hand off his mouth to speak. “You think so?” 

“I know so,” she said, giving his hand a tight squeeze. She smiled at him, and Thor felt that weight leave him. “Shall we perform the test, then?” 

Thor nodded, and Runa helped him lie flat on his back. 

The grass was cool against his skin, and a gentle breeze helped to dry the wetness on his cheeks. He let his eyes fall shut, and hoped briefly that he wouldn’t fall asleep before Runa could complete the ritual.

“I should warn you,” she said, clutching her shimmering pouch, “this ritual is like having a nightmare. It uses what you are afraid of against you. It will not be easy to control.” 

Thor swallowed. “Well, I suppose things are never easy.” 

Runa hummed a humorless laugh. “I suppose you’re right.” 

And that was that. 

The soft chinking of Sága’s stones filled the air, and Thor gasped in the glow of their light. Runa placed them in an arc around Thor’s head, then brought a stick of well-worn chalk from her basket and scratched runes into the surface of each stone. 

Runa waved a hand over his face, her palm glowing as bright and silver as the moon that watched over them. That light grew bigger and more bright as it spread out and engulfed Thor. When it faded, the grass beneath him had turned to hard stone and the natural aromas and sounds were sorely lacked. 

Thor pushed himself up onto his elbows, and gave the room a cursory glance. White walls, floor, ceiling. Harsh light poured in from an artificial bulb above his head. 

“Can you hear me?” Runa asked, her voice clear as day, only coming from inside his head. 

Thor started at the sound, but nodded. “Aye. Where am I?”

“I can’t see what you see,” Runa reminded him. 

Thor sighed. Of course. He pushed himself to his feet. There was nothing in front of him but a bare wall, nothing on either side of him. Brows furrowed, he spun to face what was at his back. 

A strangled noise broke free of his throat and he stumbled back into the wall. His heart beat wildly, and his breathing was unsteady. 

Runa’s voice was quieter now. “Thor?”

Thor couldn't speak, all he could do was lower himself to the floor again until he was eye level with the man crouched in the back of what he now knew was a cell. The man, wrapped in rusted chains, held his head low. A tangled mess of golden hair fell in choppy, uneven locks around his bruised and shadowed face. 

Thor couldn’t speak because it was  _ him _ in those chains.

“Thor! Answer me!” 

“I’m here,” he whispered, “I’m here.”

“What do you see?” 

“It...it’s me. I’m in a cell.” 

Thor crawled forward on his hands and knees until was directly in front of his alternate self. “Can he hear me?” 

“If you let him.”

Just as she said it, the other Thor lifted his head. His eyes were a clouded blue, bloodshot and sunken in. Thor’s stomach turned at the sight of him. 

“Get out of here,” he growled. Thunder rolled loud enough to rattle his chains. “You did this.  _ You _ .”

Runa’s voice was even quieter, further away. Thor could feel himself slipping but he didn’t reach for anything to hold himself up. “Thor, this isn’t real. You can control this. Don’t let it take over.” 

“Why are you here?” Thor asked, ignoring Runa’s pleading. 

The other Thor rolled his eyes. “Didn’t that witch tell you? You...me...we’re destroyers. We are Asgard’s doom.” 

“No,” Thor breathed, tears blurring his vision, “No, I couldn’t have...please.”

False Thor laughed, a cold, cruel sound. His eyes flashed with lightning. “You will. Asgard will fall, and it will be your fault. You’re dangerous, volatile. You never should’ve been king. You’re not worthy of the title. Odin should've killed you instead of banishing you. Maybe then Asgard could’ve been saved.”

Thor scrambled backwards until the base of his skull slammed into the cement wall. He hissed and clutched his neck. His counterpart chuckled again. 

“Aye. Run. Pretend that you don’t know what’s coming. Ragnarok will be here before you know it, Odinson,” he said, “and the blood of Asgard will be on your h–“ 

There was a sharp tug in his midsection, then his vision went white. Colors returned, then shapes. He saw the vague outline of a woman above him. Garbled sounds that might have been someone talking to him made his ears ring. Pressure built up behind his eyes, nose, ears. His hands pressed against his face of their own conviction, and when someone pulled them away, Thor caught a glimpse of blood on his fingers. 

Another person showed up, and then another. The ground fell out underneath him, or maybe one of those blobs of color and light had picked him up. He was too weak to care who or wonder if he was in any danger. 

Something bright and green flashed out of the corner of his eyes. He screwed them shut as the pain in his temples roared. He felt the softest brush of warmth against his skin, and the pain lessened. 

“Thor, can you hear me now?” Runa asked. 

“Aye,” he mumbled. His eyes refused to open. “Training...went bad, didn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so,” she said, her voice cracking, “We’re taking you to the River of Sights now. I’m sorry.”

She didn’t have to explain further. Even though Thor was fuzzy on the details, he knew what that meant. It was time for his powers to be returned to the Norns that gifted them. He expected to feel disappointed. Maybe he would once this spell passed. But as it was, he just felt numb. 

His consciousness was a fickle thing as they took him through the woods. Glimpses of trees, the shadow of a familiar face, the occasional sound of a branch snapping underfoot—it all blended together. He snuggled closer to Heimdall’s chest, his throat thickening with incoming tears. Heimdall rubbed steady circles on his back, and the rumble of his voice was more soothing than the sound of it would have been. 

“We’re here.” 

Thor lifted his head. His vision was still blurred, but a river roared by his ears. Moonlight reflected enough off the babbling water that he could see the sparkle, even without perfect eyesight. 

The River of Sights. Unassuming to the naive eye, but she held untold power in her depths. Thor had always known there to be a strand of it on Midgard, and considered visiting back when he’d first discovered his powers. It made sense, though, for it to be in Vanaheim, too. 

“What do I need to do?” Thor asked as Heimdall knelt to let him down on his feet. His knees buckled but Heimdall caught him again, and he rested his weight against him. 

“Lower yourself into the water,” she said. She came forward and slipped her arm in his, and guided him to the bank. “I’ll recite the incantation.” 

Loki had been quiet, or maybe Thor had just been unconscious anytime he spoke, but he placed a gentle hand on Thor’s shoulder and asked, “Thor, are you sure you want this?” 

Thor swallowed. He  _ wasn’t _ sure, but Runa had convinced him of one thing: he didn’t need to hold onto his powers to keep Frigga close. So he took a breath and nodded. “Aye, I am.”

“Your mother would be proud, you know?” Heimdall said, glancing up to the sky, as if Frigga were watching them. Perhaps she was. 

Thor followed his gaze and took a breath. The stars shone a bit brighter when he smiled. “I do,” he whispered before looking back to Runa. “I’m ready.” 

Runa nodded once. “Alright, then.”

Her hands on his arm, Loki’s on his shoulders, and Heimdall’s at his back all helped guide him into the River. The water was cool against his skin. The seidr within the river made his sing and set his skin alight with a silvery glow. 

Visions came to him for the last time, but none stayed long enough for him to see. They didn’t frighten him. He locked eyes with Runa as Heimdall and Loki stepped out of the way. She smiled and took his hands in hers. 

Runa spoke in an ancient dialect, so old Thor wouldn’t have recognized it without Allspeak. He closed his eyes as her words began to take effect. The sensation wasn’t completely foreign; it reminded him uncomfortably of when Odin had stripped him of his powers all those years ago. It was the same draining, weakening of every cell in his body. If it weren’t for Runa’s hands in his, he’d have collapsed into the river and drowned. 

The last line of the spell crossed her lips, and gasped. The water around him swirled and rose up to his elbows. The Norns called to him, begging him to join them under the surf. His resolve was fading just like his consciousness. 

Runa pulled him out of the water just as he was about to relent. 

Shivers danced up and down his body, and his teeth chattered. He was fading fast, and he was so, so tired. Soft moonlight flickered out above him. The stars whispered a lullaby, and he finally found rest. 

* * *

There was no grave for the queen of Asgard, but Thor knew a spot where he could talk to her. Since her passing, the servants had been keeping up her garden (no doubt at Loki’s instruction). It was just as well loved now as it was when Frigga walked among the blossoms. Thor felt her presence there almost as much as he’d felt it in Vanaheim. 

It had been two weeks since he lost his powers. Runa had watched over him for half that time, and Heimdall for the rest. When he was strong enough, he’d go to Earth. Jane needed to know he was okay, and the Avengers, too. For now, he had something to do. 

There was a marble bench in the center of Frigga’s garden, surrounded on all sides by an ivy-clad fence that would hide him away from prying eyes. He sat, cross-legged, on that bench and looked towards the sky. 

“Hello, mum,” he said, his voice soft and unsure. It felt strange to talk to nothing, but he knew she was listening. “I wanted to talk to you. I think I need to.” 

Thor took a shuddering breath and blinked a few times to keep the tears from falling. “I wish I could’ve kept my powers, mum, I really do. I wish they hadn’t been taken from us. You would’ve been such a good teacher.” 

The palace was glistening in the distance, and he could see the throne room window from where he sat. He sighed. 

“Loki escaped, as you well know,” he said, “I have an increasing suspicion that Heimdall had something to do with it. Maybe I should try and bring him to justice, but I don’t have the heart. I wish you were here to set him straight. Still, I think he’s trying. I’m proud of him. You would be, too. Not that you ever weren’t. And I’m sure we’ll find Odin. Loki said he was on Midgard, so...that’s a start.

“You’d tell me to forgive Odin,” he muttered, looking down at his feet. A strange mix of stubborn resentment and guilt flared in his chest. “I will one day, I promise. For now, I think...I think I want to be angry with him. I so wish you were here to tell me about how it happened. Heimdall can only supply so many details.

“I’m glad I got to meet Runa. She told me a lot about when you were younger. She insists I’m just like you, but I could only hope to be half as good.” 

Thor dragged his hands over his face. “All I’m trying to say is that I miss you. Every day.”

With a groan, he stood, his body facing the sun, and let the warmth wash over his form. He was getting tired again; the walk had taken a lot out of him. Heimdall and the other nurses didn’t know he had gone, and if he didn’t return soon, they’d burn the palace down looking for him. 

“I have to go now,” he whispered, letting tears slip down his cheeks. His eyes were turned towards the coast, where they’d sent Frigga’s pyre into Valhalla. It seemed like the proper place to address her. “I love you.” 

A gentle breeze blew, then, almost as if she were whispering back,  _ I love you, too.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's a wrap :) please leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed <3

**Author's Note:**

> part two should be coming soon, and it will be much longer! in the meantime, stay healthy and don't forget to leave a comment! love y'all <3


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